


Vinland Saga Oneshots

by Nejllik



Category: Vinland Saga (Anime), Vinland Saga (Manga)
Genre: Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-01-30 02:47:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21420928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nejllik/pseuds/Nejllik
Summary: Oneshots xReader with multiple Vindland Saga characters. Inspired by my love for this anime/manga and all its characters.Suggestions are welcome, and spoiler warnings for the Manga will be given.
Relationships: Askeladd (Vinland Saga)/Reader, Bjorn (Vinland Saga)/Reader, Thorfinn (Vinland Saga)/Reader, Thorkell (Vinland Saga)/Reader
Comments: 22
Kudos: 131





	1. Thorfinn x Reader: Heartache

**Author's Note:**

> I received some cool advice and I will be following it. I'll be keeping all my stories here and continuing to write here, but I will gradually re-post my favorites into works of their own. Changes will be made, but I don't plan on any significant changes (aka. I'll most likely change things like grammar or wording). Just making this note in case readers go to my page and are confused after reading the exact same thing outside of this collection.
> 
> Thanks!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pain and suffering, soft love, childish love, innocent love. Mild touching. 
> 
> Loving Thorfinn is not all butterflies and magic. Lusting for Thorfinn is easy, but to love means to care, and as the boy toils for vengeance, each day slipping down a path of endless violence, to care means to suffer. And, when love causes suffering, there is heartache. Still, no matter how much heartache, love can still be worth it.
> 
> It is an xReader story told in first person. The Reader is a girl who lives in the town that Askeladd's men return to, where Askeladd's uncle resides. Thorfinn has long since caught Reader's interest, and this is a story of the difficulties of acquainting Thorfinn 'properly'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note to self: Rewrite this

My heartache always began in autumn; the blush of the trees, falling of the leaves, were all signs that I associated with the coming of winter- the coming of that strange, stubborn boy. It's a wonder, to everyone and me, why I feel the way I do around him. He's crude, he's harsh, he's rude; I also fear he may be an idiot. Our first meeting was anything but pleasant, when I approached a boy sitting alone at the docks to offer him food; he lashed out at me with burning anger. I was shocked, but, even back then, felt like there was more beyond is terrible manners. He was certainly unpleasant, but I never felt that he was cruel; even when he yelled at me with rage in his eyes, I did not feel any anger directed towards me. The anger was all around him; he was angry about his life, his surrounding, his future, present, and path. I just happened to be there to interrupt his brooding. Thinking back now, it may have been peculiar of me to not have felt the slightest fear; when the shock wore away, and it did so quickly, I felt something far more like wonder and awe. I've lived my life as a single merchant's daughter, and no great hardship has crossed my path, both due to my upbringing and my own choosings. The powerful negativity, incredible lament that wrapped this boy so tightly was so novel and so extreme, it was almost beautiful to me.

Perhaps, that's why I've been awaiting for his arrivals back to my town every winter, when Askeladd and his troops would surely return back, bringing treasures beyond imagination with him. Before I knew Thorfinn, I hated the winters; they were noisier, with fights and yelling. The men who returned always seemed to trash everywhere they went, and they flirted overbearingly often, so I hid in my own home as much as possible. But after the day of our meeting, I was always at the dock when the ships came to land, and I came to every duel in case it was Thorfinn again, and I had even attempted working as a server in order to be closer to Thorfinn- of course, to no avail, for I rarely found him with the other men. I had to search if I wanted to find Thorfinn; always, I checked the docks first, where he usually was. If he was not there, I would search the entire town, trying every solidarity corner and space, and would eventually find him. He would scowl at me, yell a little, spit about how he had no intention of baby sitting me (I was only two years younger than him, though.) I never paid his words much mind, and always tried to change the subject, usually to something menial like the sky or weather, but that rarely worked, and he'd just run away and disappear. So, the next time I sought him out, and his usual negativeness were thrown at me, I decided to try to provoke him instead. 

"You always lose, don't you ever get tired of it?" I asked him. I almost regretted it. For once, his anger was directed truly, personally, at me. And it was _ powerful _, powerful as in the mere glare felt as if it would knock me over. But it only lasted a moment. He turned around, and he just left, leaving me in the dark, shadows of the night, alone to think about what I had said.

I couldn't understand the events of that day, whether he was angry at me, or if he had decided he disliked me thoroughly, for he had stopped allowing me to near him whatsoever. Previously, he would tolerate me loitering about near him on certain good days, but now, he never let me even approach him; if he caught sight of me, he would vanish. The only moments I was able to observe his features were during the duels with Askeladd, which consistently ended in failure for Thorfinn. I felt helpless; there would be no way I could gain any sort of friendship with him now, for he wouldn't even hear a single word I would say anymore. For two years, two entire years, I could only watch him get beaten; I could only chase his shadows. Halfway through, I gave up searching for him; I'd watch him duel, and then I'd retire to my home, where I would simply stare at the window, drowning all thoughts in the sea of stars.

'I wonder, if somewhere up there, is a wise old star watching us, knowing all our little struggles.' I found myself entertaining the silly thought, and the more I looked up at the white sparkles in the sky, the more I felt I could feel quiet and aged knowledge, shining down in gentle, dim light. My heart ached, as it always did whenever the stubborn boy came to mind, and I pressed my palms together, fingers lacing together. The light of the stars sparkled in my eyes, which were now sad and begging. "Please, stars..." I muttered quietly, "If you could grant me a little of your knowledge, on how to calm that bitter, wounded heart." But of course you can't speak to stars, and no miracle enlightened me that day, or any after. In fact, quite the opposite happened.

One day, I awoke with a feeling. The chill of the winter air felt milder, the snow seemed less harsh and biting, and the men of the town seemed bored and restless. I had a strong feeling Askeladd would take his men and depart soon, meaning Thorfinn would be absent for another year. Again, the heartache came, but it felt more real this time, as if fingers were physically squeezing around my heart, tensing every breath of mine. This wasn't simply an emotion anymore, it was a command; I had to go, try to see Thorfinn one more time. I took not even an outer piece of clothing, and ran out in just my dress and my shoes. I searched the docks, and it was empty; I looked all about the town, studied the ground near the forest for fresh tracks (in case he went hunting), and there was nothing. I was out of ideas, but still I searched, retracing my steps, even opening closets, and God Forbid, checking inside barrels, and at the end of some hours passed by, I was collapsed onto the wood of the docks, the ocean laughing and splashing underneath me. Unable to find a single boy, it seemed to tease, and I frowned and took a rock, throwing it as far into the water possible. It plunged into the deep, hungry blue an unimpressive distance away, and the waves went on completely unaffected; the only one affected was me, out of breath and bedraggled.

'Why..?' The question came to me. 'Why am I so obsessed? Why do I care? Why do I suffer, constantly rejected, constantly unhappy, with wasted efforts each time I try to even be around him?' The thoughts hurt; they were pushing at the efforts I had made for years, undermining all the agony I had felt for Thorfinn's sake, all those times I slipped out of my comforting home for a chance to see him... Was it... all for nothing? A childish chase?

I had no clue; I had no idea if I would regret spending so much time on him years later, if I would scoff at all the trouble I put myself through, and carry on my life without even a single pang of pain at the memory. I dearly hoped that would be the case, that I could forget it all and _simply_ move on... But, at least in this moment, at least today, I could not. All I could do, was straighten my dress and wipe away tears that had fallen without my notice, and turn back towards the village, to start all over again. It struck me, that there was one place I hadn't searched, one place I had never thought to search for Thorfinn. I supposed, I could check the lodging where Askeladd's men stayed, drank, ate, and slept; it was always noisy there, and in the few times I worked there as a server, I despised it- touchy hands, laughing, drunk men. It was a nightmare. But today, my goal was set, and I neared the area, already the noise of revelry echoed from behind the walls. I took a breath; most definitely, Thorfinn wouldn't be here, but maybe someone would at least have an idea of where he was. So, I pushed the door open, and timidly stepped into the chaotic room.

At first, no one noticed me; the men kept singing, yelling, drinking on, too absorbed in their doings to pay mind to the movement of the door. I gazed around best I could to try to see past the moving bodies of bulky, muscular men, and thought after a while that there was no Thorfinn here, as suspected. So, I stood there, tense and frozen, trying to contemplate just how I would try to start a useful conversation with these brute men, known for being rough and greedy with women. 'Oh god,' My mind said, 'This is a bad idea.' But it was too late to go back now, and my own desires and heartache pushed me forward, towards a man who looked as if they had the least angry, least violent faces.

"E-excuse me?" I managed to pip out, and the man turned around to face me, beer in his hand. And, at that moment, it felt as if the entire room turned to look at me; it wasn't so, just the few men who were near focused their eyes on me, but their gaze was enough for me to feel suffocated and trapped. They looked at me, and I forced the words out. "Do you, by any chance, know where Thorfinn is?" I asked, with a smile that took every ounce of strength to keep on my lips. My body seemed to trembling, but I wasn't sure.

"Thorfinn? Did Thorfinn have a lover?" A man, not the one I whom I asked, called out, loud enough for anyone in the room to hear. There was laughter all around, and the attention of the crowd was turned to me; another man grabbed me by the arm, pulling me close to him, his face nearing mine as he squinted, pretending to need to have his nose almost touching me in order to see me. "Ahhh? Could it be- she's kinda cute!" I could smell the thick stench of alcohol on his breath, mixed with the smell of unwashed teeth and rotting food. I turned my head sharply away, trying not to gag. "Oh!!!" The man holding me laughed, "This one seems fiesty; just my type!" The rest laughed, and one called out in a different tone, warning yet trying to remain jolly as to not disturb the mood of the others, "Hey, but if she's really with Thorfinn, wouldn't he get mad and, y'know, kill you?"

Of course, that felt false; Thorfinn had been ignoring me for at least a year now. But I desperately hoped for its truth, or, at least, for these men to believe it to be true. No luck; the man brought me even closer, his other hand taking my shoulder, and he replied, "Nah, I've seen them together before; he doesn't even look at her. That guy's only interested in one thing and one thing only. It'll be fine."

'only interested in one thing and one thing only.' My mind focused on that one phrase, and repeated it in my head, lashing my heart over and over. His words hurt. They cut so deeply, but only because I knew they were true. I felt involuntary tears rise, and I shut my eyes, trying to block it all out, every feeling and every thought. I just wanted to disappear, to escape all this pain, all this heart ache. But the world dragged me on through it, and I felt my body press against a man's, hands wrapping tightly around my waist and picking me up with a grip on my bottom, squeezing in the most violating, sickening way. Suddenly, all my heartache, all this searching seized to matter in that instant; panic took over me as I realized my situation. Here in this room, with nothing but these wild men, there was absolutely nothing to my advantage; I was completely and utterly vulnerable, and if anything happened, there would be nothing I would be able to do about it. I had to escape. I had to get out of here, even if it meant violence. That's how I found myself jamming my thumb into a man's eyes; I hardly thought, my body moved on its own. I skipped out of the way when another went to grab me, and made a dash to the exit, but I felt a hand grab me by my hair, pulling me back harshly and throwing me down; I fell onto a table, the dishes and food scattering upon my impact. I felt the wind get knocked out of my as a man pushed his leg into my stomach, and hissed and growled when I felt a body mount mine; my body trembled and shuddered with disgust.

"Stop!!!" I shouted with all my might, and felt a sob get caught in my throat. "Please..!" I whimpered in panic, my hand sliding across the table in search for something, and something I found. My fingers curled around a handle, and I twisted my body to slam the object into the man- but he stopped me, and in my hand, was a spoon. Laughter rippled through the room, men crying out with excitement that a girl was armed with a spoon, and yelling out for the man to watch out. The man on me chuckled too, and I felt nothing but shame and hatred. I dropped the spoon, and attacked the man's eyes again, but he took my hands and pushed them behind my head, onto the table. I growled and groaned, unable to even budge them a single bit; it was if steel was binding me down. The man looked down at me with eyes that might look upon a struggling rabbit; he held both my hands down with just one of his, and the other tapped my cheek. "If you stop struggling," He said, "It might actually feel pleasant. You're making this worse for yourself." And then his hand slid down my waist, and pulled up the side of my dress. My heart just dropped, and I lost all feeling; I ripped one hand away from his grip, and slammed my palm against his cheek as hard as possible.

The sound of the slap was loud, and seemed to freeze all activity. Eyes turned to me, and the man in front of me brought his hand up to his cheek, rubbing his chin. He looked at me, and he was angry. It wasn't Thorfinn's anger, lashing out blindly. This anger was focused; it screamed danger. I fell back onto the table as he rose, standing before me with a clenched fist. I tensed, turning my head away in anticipation for pain that I saw coming as the man drew back his arm, and it felt as if the beating was just one instant away when I heard a voice speak out, raw and commanding.

"Get your hands off her."

All attention fell onto the boy who had spoken; he stood there, at the entrance of the room, short and younger than all the other men, but with voice and fury in his eyes tenfold more aged and sharpened. The man above me began to speak, "Thorfinn. She has to pay for-" But he was cut off, for Thorfinn hadn't listened to a single word and simply took me firmly by the arm, dragging me outside without uttering a single word. The door slammed behind us, and he dragged me away, clearly angry in his gait, and didn't stop until I finally had enough sense to shake myself out of his grip. He then turned, and glared at me with such a sharp look that I could almost feel it slice me. 

"The hell are you doing?" He snarled, his voice still so raw with emotion that it made me shiver. I felt obliged to answer. "I was looking for you," I said, "I couldn't find you anywhere, so I was going to try to ask one of them, since.. they're your shipmates, and all..."

For a brief moment, Thorfinn looked surprised. His eyes widened, and for a brief moment, I saw his round, brown orbs framed by an expression that seemed almost gentle. But as quickly as that expression had come, it disappeared. His glare returned and he looked at me with what I dare say seemed like feigned disgust, or rather, an expression that showed disgust because it was all it knew how to show. "You're-" He started as if to berate me, but his voice faltered, and he looked at me, almost as if he was lost. 

I looked at him back; I felt so blissful, despite all the events of today. Thorfinn, for once, didn't look angry at me. I waited, hoping patience would encourage him to continue. And, it worked. He took a breath, and started again. "You're... really serious, aren't you?" He asked me. 

Those words were hard to comprehend, and I looked at him blankly, unable to grip their meaning. 'Serious?' I thought, 'Do I seem serious?' I thought myself a rather playful, joking person; did Thorfinn see me as serious? Oh, maybe he meant I was serious in a different way, as in, I was earnest and serious about something; that would make sense, but, serious about what? I wanted to ask, but I kept my mouth shut. I was afraid that a single wrong word would cause him to flee, like he did before. Thankfully, he continued, turning away slightly, looking to the sea. 

The wind drifted through his messy, dark blonde hair, sending its strands over his eyes and face, and he looked wondrously rugged and handsome. "You should give up on me." He said; and I paused, pulling myself out of my thoughts. I blinked, looking at him. I had spent, _years_. Years, idiotically spent chasing him around, hoping for just a few words, just a talk, just to see a little bit more of him. Now, he was here, telling me to 'give up.' Sure, I would normally respect a person's private space, but this guy hadn't even asked once what I even wanted with him. Not that I knew, but still: he should at least ask!

"G-give up?" I stammered, utterly flabbergasted by his suggestion, "Give up???" I repeated, and Thorfinn turned, looking at me with surprise. "There's nothing to give up on!" I said, my voice nearing a shout, "I've been chasing you around for years now, over and over and over. And you, an idiot who keeps fighting the same battle over and over and over, tells me to give up? You of all people should understand! I'm not doing this because I want to gain anything from you; it's because I have nothing else I want to do! Thorfinn, you're the only person I consider the slightest bit my friend, and there's no such thing as giving up on you..."

A tear now rolled down my cheek; I didn't know why, I didn't feel sad, only relieved. Relieved that at last, all those years had finally enabled me to speak to Thorfinn my mind, to see him a little bit more clearer. And see him clearer, I did; he looked at me, astonishment, shock, confusing mixed in his wide eyes. He truly, truly, was not a harmful boy; his eyes now told me that, truer than any of his glares and snarls. His eyes told me, that he did not understand my words; something about what I had said, something about my manner towards him, could not register in his mind. 'Maybe,' I thought, as I looked back into his eyes, 'Maybe... he just.. doesn't know what it's like for someone to like him...' I took a breath, and waited; waiting seemed to be the right thing to do with him. 

He slowly blinked away the surprise in his eyes, and something seemed to sink into his thoughts, for there was a soft, contemplative light that entered his eyes as he turned himself away, so that I could no longer see his eyes from behind his hair. There was a pause of silence, in which only the soft roaring of the ocean disturbed, and then Thorfinn spoke. "Then...." He said, each word of his spoken with so much uncertainty and tension, "Will you wait for me..?" 

I had no idea what he was talking about, but my mouth moved and I spoke before any thought could enter my mind. "Always." I said, firmly.

"When I return," He continued, "You'll be here, no matter who I am, or what I've done?"

I feel the heartache again. Despite his constant facade of strength and apathy, I could sense fear. He seemed so afraid, as if I would simply turn and laugh at him, as if everything I had done so far was merely a dead and cold lie. His weakness, his distrust; it was awful, and I wanted to wrap my arms around him. But as of now, all I could do was swallow my grief, and say as softly and firmly as I could. "I'll be here, Thorfinn." I said. I tried to say more; I tried to convey it all to him: my constant worry over him, the constant pain I would bare for him, the endless thoughts all of him, this stubborn love for him that never left me... But, all I could manage to say was what I had already. "I'll be here..." I said, trying to squeeze years of longing, or observing, of caring into three short syllables. 

And then, he turned back towards me, and I caught my heart in a gasp, for he advanced towards me quickly, the tip of his boot touching the tip of mine. He was in front of me, right in front of me; it was as if he was filling every corner of my vision, and I could feel his presence from the movement of the air, and the warmth that neared me. I thought he would hold me, wrap his arms around me, so that I could feel his back with my fingertips, feel his chest against mine, and his legs besides my own; I wanted to press my nose into his hair, despite how it might smell, just to feel closer to him. But, all I felt as my eyes closed, was his lips press quickly against mine, messy and rushed. He pulled away, wiping his mouth with his sleeve; his cheeks were completely red, and his brows were pressed together, as if worried. He took a look at my face, turned, and he ran away; I stared back at him, feeling suspended into the air, as if clouds had drifted underneath my fingertips and feet and all around me. I watched him leave, the quietest longing in me for him to return; but I was frozen, I couldn't call out to him, I could hardly even get myself to move. It wasn't until he reached the summit of the hill we were on, when he turned around briefly; he didn't wave, he didn't call. He just looked at me, one last look, a quiet goodbye, and I felt tears reach my eyes. "Thorfinn-" I whispered, so quietly and with so much emotion. He was long gone now, back away with the rest of the world, where he would suffer again and again, fighting and killing as Askeladd's men did... But, I would be here; not just because I had promised, but because I always wanted to be there; I wanted to be there for him, and with him.

I collapsed to the floor, alone on that hill; I stayed there until afternoon, when I trudged home and was scolded by my mistress and thrown into a bath. I returned back to my seat by the window, and just stared at the nothingness. That evening, Askeladd's men headed out once again; I stood by the dock, my hands together in front of me. I saw Thorfinn on the mast of the ship; he looked onto the shore, and I knew he saw me, I knew he was looking at me. We didn't wave, we needn't to; no sign was needed, for all we, all I, needed to know was spoken and confirmed today. All I had to do, was to wait another spring, another summer, and another fall; then, I would be able to see him again; he would get taller, and he would fight Askeladd again (and lose.) Everything would repeat itself again, except us; we would grow, awkwardly, but we would grow. I pressed my hands together, and there was a pang in my heart; the ship was just a dot now, and all around the dock had scattered away, returning back to their daily life. But I could not return quite yet; I looked onto the ocean, memories still fresh on my mind.

I hoped. One day, he might return, and instead of vengeance, hatred, and pain, he would bring hope, a new beginning. And when he did, I'd support him, as I had all the years before. Until that very day... this heartache would never end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lover is a friend, and a friend is not one who would simply watch as you sink deeper into darkness. A lover, a friend, should lend a hand, even in the most impossible of times.


	2. Thorkell x Reader: A new adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorkell returns home to you, his loving wife, and has a surprising suggestion. 
> 
> Story type: Short, light, cute, warm, old-married couple.

It was a cold winter day; you clenched your first, refused to feel any fear, and marched right into the middle of Thorkell's army. It was on a snowy field, where a great bonfire roared, with dancing and singing all around. None paid heed to you, a small, petite woman making her way through the chaos, until you reached him, and met his eyes. And then you spoke, and through all the yelling, singing, and cheering, your voice rang out true and clear. 

"Thorkell," You said, "Marry me." 

Laughter roared at you, but it was seized by silence when Thorkell replied with a simple, "Sure." 

That was years ago, back when Thorkell still had a look of youth in his features. Now his hands had gotten more calloused, and wrinkles had set in his cheeks and eyes, but he himself did not change, not a single bit. He came home sparsely, but you never noticed; when he returned your world lit up, and every moment together seemed an eternity. He'd hold you tight, though he was using a mere hundredth of his strength, and then you two would simply stick by each other's side and talk, sometimes by the fire place, sometimes in the outer air, and sometimes he'd pick you up in your arms and walk you to his men, where he liked to brag. 

He never quite treated you as a woman, and you didn't mind. You were his friend and his confident, and for as far as you could see, that would be enough. Even if deep down you might have hoped he would love you more intimately, you had known from long before you chose him that he was devoted to war above all things. So, it came as a surprise when one day he walked into the home, three months before you expected him to return, and said, "Hey, [y/n], let's move to someplace else" 

"What?" You spoke innocently as you neared him, slipping up onto his leg while he lifted you up like a doll, and held you in his arms so that you could look down at him. "I'm giving up war," He said, his eyes warmly focused on you in that way you loved. Your fingers ran through his hair, which now was turning grey. He giggled. 

"Give up war?" You asked, calmly, "But dear, don't you love war?"

He took a sharp breath and winced, "Yeah, but today some guy, well-shaped but average, almost overpowered me, and I just thought it didn't make much sense."

Your finger trailed down his cheek; he looked at you, his smile renewed in his eyes, and he just took a seat right in front of the doorway, with you curled up comfortably in his lap, showering him with affection. 

He continued. "I didn't spend all my life trying to be killed by a worthy warrior only to die an old, weak geezer by a regular man's hand. So, I decided I'd do other things until I got old." 

"Oh?" You inquired "And what might you have planned?"

"Well..." His voice rumbled pleasantly, and he bent down down, kissing your hair. It tickled. "I thought, 'what a shame to have a feisty wife wait at home; I should go fight some battles with her.'" 

You hummed in reply, unconsciously leaning into his warm, comfortable touch. "So, you're going to take me fighting with you?" 

"Oh! No," He chuckled, "I meant different battles; like, battle the weather, or battle the sea."

These were strange words indeed, and you looked up into his eyes; they told you he was speaking earnest and true. "You mean something like starting a farm, or sailing the world?" You asked.

"Yeah!" He said, shining with his usual smile, "No matter how strong you are, the world's always the strongest. If I die fighting the world, I don't think I'll mind." 

You hummed again; his thoughts were always so strange, so obscure, yet simple and straightforward. You adored that about him. 

"And maybe," Thorkell added, "We can have some children."

And now you blushed, but you smiled too, and he smiled. He stood up, taking you up with him, and away you two went.

Youth is regarded as the time of exploration, but the adventures don't end there. They go on and on, for as long as you let them. And, with Thorkell, life would never seize to be an adventure, even when you're grey and old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and suggestions welcome


	3. Askeladd x Reader: Trammeled Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You admire Askeladd, and he notices you. Sometimes, love just isn't enough. But, while feelings fade, memories last forever, don't they?
> 
> Warning: The reader experiences sex, and it is described in some detail.

You had been an admirer of Askeladd since long ago, and had left him little gifts of food by his door at night, and watched every bit you could during his stay at the village. You were part of the Askeladd's little fan club, and were with them whenever they went to watch and call Askeladd, but it wasn't always that way. You were always a quieter girl than the others, and never looked much towards the men returning from their journeys. They all had seemed to you brutal barbarians, so you assumed their leader would be the same. One day, you saw otherwise. You were just making your normal rounds to the baker, to get some fresh loaves for breakfast, when you passed by the fangroup of girls, laughing and flirting. Askeladd was there, but you didn't notice until he approached you; you paused, turned around, and faced him. What a handsome man he was, with his shining blonde hair and keen eyes... He may have been a little aged with a few lines set into his face, but his mind was still quite able, and his demeanor youthful.

"What a pretty young lady," He had said, in an amiable, light tone, "Take this and buy something for yourself." He took your hand in his (you were mildly shocked at this point from him talking to you) and placed a pendant in it, one that was brilliant blue with a silver chain. You didn't even have time to say thank you, as he turned away and faced the array of excited cries from the girl. 

And since then, you saw him differently; a gentleman. A bit of a player, far out of your league, but when he held your hand and talked to you, he treated you like a lady and a person, not a piece of entertainment. You had no chance with him, of course, but still, feelings had developed, and you found yourself hiding in the crowd of fangirls to watch him, and you'd make rounds walking about the village, just for a chance to glimpse at his noble features. The more you observed, the more mysterious he became.

He always looked so calm, so content, as if he had accepted some great fact of life and stood at a place higher and further from the rest. He was always with some friend or another when you saw him, but... sometimes, you'd find a flash of loneliness in his eyes, and sometimes a deep, quiet, disdain. You tried to think of these, and the disdain you were sure you saw, but could not fathom what he would disdain. The loneliness was seen so rarely, that you figured it might have been your imagination, your mind trying to convince you to talk to him. 

No, you couldn't talk to him, there was nothing to say, for you wanted nothing from him but to watch him more. You still had that necklace from before, hidden in your drawer, for it would serve as a memoir of your feelings to him, even when they faded away (as feelings tend to do.) Gratitude was still in you that he would talk to you, even though that was long ago now, but you still set out small things for him to (hopefully) find. If you saw him with a patch in his shirt, you'd make him a new one; you made him new boots, new gloves, and would set out some foods you noted as his favorite. It was silly, really, and a lot of times others picked up the items- why wouldn't they? It's not like you gave it to Askeladd yourself, you just set them away. But recently you'd seen him wearing the shirt you made, and his gloves looked quite familiar, and you felt as if his eyes might have been watching you, even as he looked away. Haha, maybe you were really getting a bit delirious. 

Or maybe not? You were going to your family's storage shed to fetch a tool; it was late at night, and your family was asleep, but you often had truoble sleeping, and preoccupied yourself by walking around and doing occasional chores. No one really noticed in your family, you were good at being quiet. But today, someone noticed. You head a knock on the open door as you were in the shed, and you straightened yourself, turning with the lantern to see who was there. You thought maybe one of your parents had woken to check on you, but no, the man standing there was Askeladd. You felt as if your heart had jumped into your mouth.

"Miss.... _L/N_, was it?" He said, his voice so pleasant, so comfortable. "Yes..." You replied, and dared to take a step towards him. You wanted to see him closer, and shine a light onto his handsome features. He really did have a noble face structure, such grand features put so well together. 

(Perspective changes from second person to first person... "You" to "me")

"Am I.... unwelcomed here?" He asked, remaining by the door. His words struck me as if he were asking to come inside. "No, you are welcome." I said, breathlessly, "I-" I was going to continue, say something, God knows what, but he stepped in as my words left my lips, and I found myself a bit stunned at his presence, in such an intimate space with mine...

He was waiting, for me to continue. Such a gentle being. "I would invite you to something proper, like a food or a drink, but the timing is a little off for that, isn't it?" I said, no doubt with a red face. 

"Yes, a little off for that." He replied, his eyes watching me. My heart fluttered and felt as if it were choking a little, too. He was different tonight than he was when he first approached me; I could sense... intentions. My desires seemed to act before I could even think about what I was saying.

"Then, maybe I should invite you to something more...." I was confused, what was I saying? "fitting the time?" _ Fitting the time? As in, fitting the night? Was I inviting him to sleep with me? _

"Fitting the time?" His footsteps neared, and his form was in front of me, so close. I had to look up to see into his eyes, those blue eyes that swirled with sharpened mischief and secrets. "What that might be?" His voice was so close and rich, it was overwhelming.

'Oh please don't make me say it,' I thought, pleadingly. This feeling of want was so wrong and right, I just wanted him to take me in his arms. He must have taken an answer from my eyes, because I felt his hands slowly enclose around my waist, pulling me so gently to him. An invitation that I took, stepping close to him with a soft, involuntary gasp of air. Everything fell into place from there. His arm tightened around my waist, pulling me flat against him. His armor was hard and cold, but I could feel the heat of his body underneath. He kissed my head, I looked up, and he kissed my lips; I kissed back, unsure of what I was doing, or how I should move. I followed his lead, and imitated the actions he made best I could, but when he lowered his head to my neck and began to suck, I felt my entire body tremble in response, and couldn't do anything but squirm and make these weird noises that just escaped from my lips. It felt so tingly, so warm and intimate. 

His fingers worked around my clothes, and I felt my garments sliding off me. The cold air chilled my skin, but not for long, for his hands traveled over me, keeping me warm. He pulled off my dress, and with him over me, we both just melted onto the floor, onto a blanket laid on a pile of hay. _ When had he laid that blanket down?_ He was above me, and kissed my neck softly once before he drew away and began to remove his own clothes. I watched as his armor and covers fell and exposed his scar-ridden body. He leaned over over me again, and his arms were on either side me. He kissed me, gently, and moved to pull down his pants. And then we were naked together, but I didn't feel scared, strange, or excited, even. I put my arms over his shoulders, leaned in, and kissed his cheek. He was so close to me, I could hear his breathing, look into his eyes; what an act of trust this all was. Trust that he wouldn't hurt me, trust that I would trust him with my self and body... I almost dared to whisper to him that I loved him, but I didn't want to alarm him with mention of these powerful feelings. I didn't think he would know just how deeply I cared for him, not from what he had seen of me so far. 

I felt something, down there, poking in a very intimate area. I squeaked in surprise, and began to squirm. He chuckled very softly, and placed his hand softly on my shoulder and kissed my cheek. "Don't worry, sweetie. I'll go slow." He mumbled in my ear, and I was helpless. God, how could he be so damn sexy. 

It was slipping in; it felt so weird. Oh god, was it suppose to go in that way? It felt good, I suppose, but it wasn't really that electrifying feeling I had imagined it to be. It was just an intimate, almost intrusive touch that slowly pushed and deepened. It was really, really warm, and wet. "Askeladd..." I muttered, half intoxicated with lust, "It kind of hurts..." 

I felt his hand gently cup my cheek. "I know," He said, "Tell me if it becomes too much, and we can try something else." His breath, it had gotten less even; it seemed to almost shake a little, and the change excited me. It was as if I were able to affect him.  
It was such a weird feeling. He seemed to just keep going in and in, and I wondered if there was enough space down there to fit completely. My thoughts were answered when I felt his body completely press flat against mine, and we were closer now, than I had ever been with anyone ever before. I could feel his skin, my hands were wrapped around his back, and I could feel his muscles. My face was snuggled in the crook of his neck, and I could listen to his deep breaths. His hands reached down, slid down my legs, and slowly pressed them open. I felt myself make a sound like a squeak as he lifted himself slightly up, looking down at me as he held my legs. I was completely exposed for him to see, and his eyes did travel. I wanted him to stop and continue at the same time; I wanted to hide, but I wanted him to enjoy me. I wasn't sure what to do, whether to cover at least my breasts, to maybe try to close my legs (it was so strange and uncomfortable to have someone between my open legs), but I never could decide, because his eyes returned to mine, and he began to move. It hurt, it hurt a lot more than before. I clung to him tightly, and maybe I whimpered, I couldn't quite tell. Either way, Askeladd noticed and paused, and he put one hand on my back and moved it down, the warmth of his touch filling my mind, comforting me. The pain began to fade, and he then started again, slower. I was afraid the pain would come back, and while it did, it was more bearable- and he was going very slow now, which was surely the reason. I could hear him, his breathing had become more audible, and when he pushed back in, he would sometimes let out a soft grunt that had a way of spinning my senses. 

The pain had faded. I don't remember when, but I was glad. Now, I could focus on the feeling of being with him, being together. My grip on him relaxed, I no longer clinged to him. I now draped over him, and closed my eyes, feeling our skins brush together. I had wrapped my legs around his, and gradually, he began to pick up speed. He reached an even pace- it was comfortable, and... pleasant? There was an odd, satisfactory feeling with it. Now, he pressed down forward, so that our abdomens were pressed together often. It felt very nice. In fact, I felt this strange feeling building slowly, like a cup filling with pleasure. It rose, and rose, and I'm not sure how to describe the feminine, foreign noises that I vocalized. Askeladd responded by pressed in harder, and the heat between us was hot, very hot. There was so much friction, wetness, heat, and sounds. And then, the cup of pleasure tipped over, and this wave of feelings just washed over me. By the time it faded away, Askeladd and I were lying together, with me snuggles to his chest. He had pulled his coat over us, and he held me tight. His embrace felt so comfortable and warm. 

I don't know how long we just rested there, but eventually he had gotten a few articles of clothing on him, and I put on my under dress. We returned to lying together, and I rested my head on my arms and brought one hand to his face, ran my fingers through his hair then caressed his face. His bright eyes looked at me, warmly. 

"What brought you here, Askeladd?" I asked, quietly. My entire body and mind was relaxed. 

"You." He answered, and I softly laughed. "Okay, but how did you know I was here. Were you watching my home?" I smiled as my hand trailed down his cheek, and lowered back down on the blanket. He only gave me a sly, charming smile, which could have meant a million things. I laughed again, I didn't know why, he just made me happy. 

"Then maybe a different question," I said, tilting my head. He watched and listened, and I loved his attention. "Are you... always so kind to the girls you spend time with?" I wondered if I should have asked that, because he had a look of... surprise? I'm not sure quite what it was. He looked at me now with an expression I could not decipher- it wasn't anything hurt or offended, just a look that told me there must be something I didn't know. 

"I treat them how they deserve to be treated, which is rarely half as much as you." Is what he replied. I laughed again, with a blush. "What a sweet talker," I said, mostly to hold my emotions back than to tease him. Whether he meant it or not, he said it so seriously. I fear I took those words and clung to them dearly, for they made me feel special and precious. 

We lay there longer, talking about very trivial things. I told him I still had the necklace, and he told me that the new gloves fit perfectly. I blushed at the thought of him noticing all the little things I had done for him over the years. I must have seemed like a stalker, though, he didn't seem to mind. I wish our time together could have lasted longer. Hell, I wish it would have lasted forever. We could talk about nothing, but his words and thoughts would make me smile. He was a silly man, I hadn't noticed before, and liked to make jokes, often corny. Always, there was some wit in the things he chose to say. That was respectable. I truly wished I could listen and talk to him forever. We talked for a long time, and then I fell asleep to his warmth. 

I woke up to the sound of the door opening, and was filled with panic. If someone saw- my father poked his head through the door, and looked at me. I was alone, and fully dressed. The only thing messy about me was my hair, but everything else, my dress, the floor, was tidy and as it should be. Askeladd was no where in sight. He had left, and I was back to my normal life (after I made some plausible excuse to my father.) 

The rest of the day, I was happy, and still went on my usual 'stalker' walks to see him. He was the same, and would flash a smile towards the group of fangirls more often. The girls squealed and shrieked in excitement, but I just smiled. Things continued as normal each day, except that I would feel a bit more happy when I watched Askeladd. I didn't need to worry, really, about anything. He knew I was here, and we had made a memory together; I would be greedy if I asked for more, wouldn't I? I wanted more, desperately. I wanted to live with him and take care of him, spoil him rotten and tease him, but that, of course, was impossible. He was a viking, and as long as he walked that violent path, how could I possibly walk besides him? It hurt, sometimes, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. 

Maybe, one day, he'd retire. But if it weren't soon, he may be quite old, and my parents would have married me off to someone else by then. I guess, this was just some youthful fantasy. One day, I'd have to forget about it all, I supposed. Still, I'd always admire him, that dashing man, and I'll watch him for as long as I can. But I wouldn't ask for anything more, it wouldn't be right. \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Askeladd was sailing off again soon. It had been a month since that pleasant night, and he had seen the little lady often, hiding among the crowd, stealing glances, as she always had done. He knew she wouldn't speak a word of what happened, not unless....Well, what were the odds. 

Of all the women he had seen and met, she was the most intriguing, and calming. She was wise for her age, that was sure; he didn't need to hear her thoughts to know, he could see it in that soft shine of her eyes. She would have made him a wonderful wife, but that wasn't meant to be. He was living this life at sea, and it wasn't one he could give up. Not quite yet, anyways. But he would miss her, he admitted; she was the first in a long time to make him feel as if he were around someone who saw him, someone who understood and knew him. He would miss that feeling, the feeling of a true lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the change in perspective was a mistake, one of my most common mistakes, but I kind of like how it transitions from me talking to you, to all of us being the reader, going on this little emotional ride with Askeladd.

**Author's Note:**

> Criticism, suggestions, and complements (: are welcome.


End file.
